On Dec. 23rd, 2017, after one whole year of courageous fighting with Cancer, our sweet dog “P” has transitioned to the other side. Her final day came suddenly after her seizure came back for the first time since a year ago when she first got sick. She was hospitalized for one day to manage her seizure and was able to come home but ultimately, we could not stop them.
I have always asked “P” to make it as clear as possible when she was ready to go—and she did. I am so thankful to her for that.
We spend the night together, and I woke up at a sound of “P” getting off from our bed.
When I jumped up, she was standing at the side of my bed. Looking at me. I remember I was surprised because, in these days, it was rare that she jumped off from our bed on her own in the morning.
Now that I look back, at the side of my bed, she was telling me “Mom, I’m ready. It’s time for you to prepare my departure.”—She had that eye.
Not realizing at that time, I took her downstairs and into the backyard for her to pee. She wouldn’t pee but look a bit dazed. Then I realized she was drooling. I looked closer and realized her lips were spasming. I knew then she was having petit mal seizures.
After taking her back to our veterinary hospital, we all agreed that it was time. We had no doubt. I just couldn’t believe that this day would actually come. I couldn’t believe that I’m saying “It’s time.” At the same time, my heart was full of appreciation and love for P. We thanked our doctor and arranged our home visit vet so that she came to meet us at our house to let her go.
At the veterinarian hospital, “P” was given valium to stop her seizures and make her drowsy and remain peaceful during her home euthanization. But right before we administrate the sedation medication, her lip started to spasm again. We were once again assured by “P” that we are doing the right thing.
Home visit doctor administrates sedation medication on her IV line. She started to fall asleep. We tried to say thank you to “P” except no words could come. Then she inserted euthanization medicine into her. It only took few seconds for her heart to stop.
Soon, her gum turned purple. It was really quick. This morning she was looking at me. A couple of hours later, her body was dead.
There’s a word in Japanese called “Kenage（健気）”. In the Japanese-English dictionary, it is translated to be “admirable”, or “praiseworthy” but the Japanese meaning of “Kenage” can’t be described with just those words.
P was a reserved, gentle and sweet dog with some baggage from her past. But all that possible “sad history” of her past does not mean, “There is this terrible person mistreated her. And I am the good person who rescued her!”—Righteousness is rarely a message from animals with great spirits. They don’t suffer so that they can give us a reason to be righteous (makes others bad and makes us good). Animals are willing to suffer so that we can finally realize what we really need to look at is ourselves—and start our healing process, big or small… Anyway, that’s what I am doing.
She came with all that baggage, and she gifted me this unconditional love without an ounce of judgment—she just loved us. Patiently, waiting for me to hear her message.
I have always thought I was broken. At the end of her life, “P” taught me all that was not true. I know I am not the only one feeling “not good enough”. And I’m sure there’s someone next you sending you a loving message that you are enough and worthy.
She gave me an opportunity to do everything I could possibly do to take care of her with my loving husband’s support. Last year of her life, she pushed her body to the limit, so that I will learn to respect myself instead of looking outside for an approval.
She was “Kenage” — she really was.
She was and still is a great spirit. A friend, gentle supporter, canine daughter and teacher of mine.
She loved us with such pure love. Her love continues to be felt by me and my husband even after she passed. I feel that as I write this.
I’m sure I will make mistakes. But I know I have great spirit guiding me through it.
Thank you, my pink girl.
We love you forever, Pumpkin!
Originally posted on DearFurmily.com
February 1, 2018